Born of Blood
by RubyD
Summary: After the series, the past might just come back to haunt you. RW, starring Cye...?


Note: And just because I'm a glutton for punishment, I've started another fic aside from Water Torture and Shards. On to the tale.  
  
*  
  
What if...?  
  
***  
  
Born of Blood  
  
By Ruby  
  
Prologue  
  
Cogito, ergo sum.  
- Rene Descartes, "I think, therefore I am."  
  
***  
  
A year ago, the Ronins separated to answer a question posed for them by the Ancient that was sent through a dream. It was after their first battle and victory against Talpa in a war over the human world. To answer the challenge, Cye had gone to a familiar bridge, yet encountered the Red Torrent in a fight to the death.  
  
We all know the results.  
  
"Super Wave Smasher!" cried Cye. In a column of super-charged water, the armor of Red Torrent was sent spiraling apart in a cloud of poison. The pieces empty of their killing venom dropped into the ocean, hopefully never to surface again.  
  
So the true and original Torrent had won.  
  
But in the swift currents of the salty bay the false armor did not scatter as they should have, instead the parts drew together by some mysterious force to recreate a cold and empty Red Torrent. The sealife flitted closely, then swam away as the sense of *wrongness* pervaded their senses.  
  
The dark armor gave off a soft yet steady glow...  
  
And it began to heal.   
  
*  
  
Present time, a year later. The cyclone down south had sent a week's worth of thunderstorms crashing into Japan in a good summer for rain. The sky was black over the bay painted only with brilliant spider webs of lightning. The traffic in the city was light; everyone stayed home to avoid the cold rain.  
  
At home, warm and safe, children would hug their mothers in awe of the scene while the parents smiled and cooed. They had nothing to fear. The news called for more storms.  
  
Now bring yourself away from the living room, away from the roaring fires and late night cups of hot chocolate, and arrive at the bay once more. The currents swirled on, and waves rolled onto one another aided by the weather.  
  
Something stirred, roused by the energy of the sea. Like a siren's whisper the currents bubbled and hissed around the darkly glittering metal. The armor awakened and stretched from its slumber like a virtual bear yawning for the first time after a long winter. It tilted its helmet up to stare at the boiling waters from below.  
  
A rippling flash of dark red and a flailing figure in thin armor was born, replacing where the metal had stood. His eyes opened wide in shock, but the burning need in his lungs drove him upward to the surface. Tired limbs quickly adjusted to the frigid sea and rocketed the body away from the sandy floor.  
  
The loud gasp was overshadowed by the churning waves. He breathed and choked and sputtered, but the point was that he even breathed. Between bursts of light he saw that land was not far away, and he swam until his arms ached.  
  
Finally, shallow water. An animalistic cry tore from his throat as he ripped away from the confusion. Half clawing and half crawling, he collapsed onto the shore panting and immediately seizing the moment to rest. The sub-armor fell away and left the shivering body of a confused boy with damp reddish hair clinging limply to his face. He laid his head on the wet sand, catching his breath from the pain.  
  
A lonely car sped by on the bridge, too distracted by the rain and darkness to even notice the out-of-place visitor below. Lightning flickered again but did not boom.  
  
He felt sick; something was wrong. Thoughts in a jumble and fighting to figure out what exactly was happening to him, the boy lurched to all fours and retched, but nothing came up. There was nothing to vomit, so he slumped to his side and curled up into a fetal position.  
  
Instead there was an emptiness inside, but one not of hunger for food; a different type of need. It was a dark spot in his heart that felt like a lump of burning ice. And everything was so, so cold.   
  
Yet, there was something else...  
  
A sense of self. A statement.  
  
I... hurt.  
  
Then, came the questions.  
  
Where am I?  
  
*Who* am I?  
  
Finally, an answer.  
  
My name is... Cye.  
  
I am Cye.  
  
An arch of light, then a deafening shatter of sound. In a reflex of all living beings Cye jerked to his feet in fear as the thunder vibrated every ounce of his naked body like a hand shoving him into flight. Choking back a sob, he stumbled far past the sand dunes in mortal terror.  
  
Home. I want to go home.  
  
It was a place warm and safe from the raging tempest. Someplace familiar.  
  
So he ran.  
  
***  
  
To Be Continued  
  



End file.
